


Squish

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [54]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Ben wants to try out kissing.





	

Ben knows he loves Poe, has done for as long as he remembers knowing him. It’s different just how with everyone he loves, but it’s the same emotion underneath. It’s a way of liking the person, looking at how kind, or brave, or giving they are. Not what they can do, but how good they are, deep down.

Poe is generous with his time, always dragging him past his nerves to the next adventure. It was getting harder to be brave, before Poe. It was getting harder to do new things, but Poe has no real sense of danger, and between them they stay safe.

This isn’t safe. This is anything but.

Ben has not dared ask his uncle if the weird thoughts are okay to have. Mom and Dad both gave him little talks, but he’d been too young to want to listen.

The holonet says a lot more. Most of it is terrifying, and doesn’t help his nerves.

Ben loves Poe. Ben has thoughts. Ben isn’t sure he should have them. He doesn’t hold Poe’s hand when they play, now. Doesn’t fall asleep under the same blanket for a nap. From being never apart, now shame and self-conscious propriety has parted them, but Ben wants to destroy that distance again.

His hands want holding away from his fidgets by another’s hands. His knees want stilling with a neighbouring knee away from his wriggles. His lips want the worried words brushing away from them with soft kisses.

Younger, and kisses had happened on cheeks and foreheads. They had been just cute touches, but the fear and discomfort in his body had made him pull away from any offered as he grew, and he cocooned himself in his misery.

But he wants one now. The ones in holos that looked kinda gross now didn’t look so gross. Or they did, but a rising heat in his tummy has him craving, wanting to know what it was everyone else saw in the act. It’s Poe he wants to try it with. He loves Poe, but this can’t… It’s wrong, isn’t it? Mom does it to Dad. Luke doesn’t, but is it because he shouldn’t, or because he doesn’t want to?

How do you ask?

How do you ask if you should?

How do you ask the other if they want it, too?

Sitting on the wall, in the sun. Feet dangling. Hands on warm brick, almost touching. The thud of his body wanting, and he closes his eyes. How do you…?

Poe finishes telling him the little story, and Ben gulps. He lets his hand slide across, and their fingers touch.

I want. I want. I want to try.

The weight of previous, innocent touches. The death of that innocence, bloody and heady like a punch to the nose. Air thick with the slaughter, and he looks over to see Poe watching him.

Everything before was before. This? Is now. Thick syrup and firecrackers. The spin of the satellite below them.

He’s not sure who initiates. It’s possible neither does, that some external, undeniable force tugs them together. Little fingers link, and they both tilt just enough not to remove an eye with a nose. Tiny brushes of skin, and the heat of breath across his own mouth. He parts a little, then jumps at the squishywarmsoft feeling of a tongue on his lips. It’s really, really odd. But it’s kind of nice, maybe.

Weird. Strange. Slurpy. Ben nearly falls off the wall when a hand brushes into his hair, the tingle to his scalp a shock to his system.

“Sorry,” Poe says.

“No,” he catches the wrist, holds it still. “I like it.”

Poe grins. “Me too.”

It’s a bizarre way to get closer, but he can see why people do. They’re going to need to try it more.

(If it’s wrong, he just won’t tell.)


End file.
